Crossing the Streams

“We know all about your blog,” my boss said, as all the color drained from my face….

For some people, that line could have been followed by “…and you’re fired.” or “and you are a sick son of a bitch.” or “we’d like you to have a talk with a counselor.” But that didn’t happen to me.

I don’t really blog about work because I like keeping my job, I don’t want you people (if anyone even reads this shit) to know where I work, and it’s just not very profesh to dish about work details. Also it’s boring.

If I told you about my day, you’d fall asleep or cut yourself, but make no mistake of it, I really do like my job. I love it. There’s never a day that I dread coming into work. I mean sure, we all have those days where we are tired and would like to legally marry our Tempurpedic and shut out the whole world, but there is nothing about my job that makes me not want to come here.

Right at the beginning of the new year, we had a change here at work. We replaced the person who did Accounts Payable and hired another new person as well. In a small office, it’s kind of a big deal when you hire 50% more people. On the whole, I liked both new women that started here. That kinda fizzled for the younger of the two, and she no longer works here.

My boss is a really nice guy. He had the good idea for all of us to go out to dinner one night after work as sort of a “get to know you” with the new employees. At the last minute, the younger of the two new chicks did the dip and bailed out on us. While having dinner and drinks, I mentioned something about writing, and that was when he said it ….

“We know all about your blog.”

It was like that moment when your whole life flashes before your eyes, but instead of my life and all the good & bad times, it was instead my mind playing back all my blog posts and trying to scan it for any post worthy of being like “don’t come back to work anymore you sick fuck.” Immediately I thought of the post about the dildo party. Fuck. And just anything. Everything. My god… this is how it ends….

Except that’s now how it ended. Both my boss and one of my co-workers were like “we don’t even care, we don’t even read it.” And then I’m still just dead in my seat, and think “…and my twitter? and that?” And basically I was told “we don’t care about your blog, even when you blog at work, you still get all your work done.”

No one fucking cares! This is an exercise in vanity at its fullest. For me to believe for a split second that this is interesting enough for them to read, let alone scandalous enough to terminate me for, is just so narcissistic. It’s a blog that I occasionally bullshit around in, don’t speak ill of my job or co-workers (not even the bitches that got fired!).

So, the moral of this story is, no one is probably reading this and I’m going to the motherfuckin’ Olive Garden with the “new” (been here for like 2 months now) girl at work that I like. And she reads my blog.